Tales of a Bored Raichu ::story collection::
by Flashfire
Summary: This is a series of fanfiction short stories, a collection in progress, from a strange author. Aimed at the reader that enjoys a bit of thought in their reading. New: Series put into one file. *Chapter 10* added. Read, contemplate, review, enjoy.
1. A Day and a Half

#1 - A Day And a Half **Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who is killing time before the start of school each day  
  
_8:10am, Wednesday 7th November 2001_  
  
Despite the fact that I'm writing this purely because of my bus timings.. You know, I can either be 40 minutes early, or 20 minutes late. I know the saying is 'better late then never', but then, somehow I get the sense that this wouldn't be taken into consideration.  
Currently, I'm sitting in the rec room, listening to the final strains of a Nirvana song. Yes, in the brief time I'm in here, good music exists.. for around 4% of the time.  
So, I can ramble on for a while.. but that's not why you're here, is it...? We know the only stuff I write has something to do with my fanfiction. So, here is a short story that the dark recesses of my mind are currently playing about with right now.  
  
  
**_#1 - A Day and a Half_**  
- by everyone's favourite (or not so) zapmouse  
  
There's not much time left. For you, at least. For me it doesn't really matter; I have a long long way. However, this wants to be written now, and it shall.  
Fate is just weird, you know? One minute, you're bounding about the bases of trees, in that curious ratty way.. The next thing, everything goes black. And the thought of falling has little effect, no, because it's landing that's the painful part. But this time, the landing was soft, and a bored something could even call it 'pleasant'.  
Everything was dark in the hole, save for the pinking glowing kittykat that was somewhere in that fraudulent night. Now, rat + kat = something unpreferable, in my language. However, when I tried to get away, I... just wouldn't. And the night seemed pink tainted after that, as if I was looking through a veil. Then, I turned, though no attempt of my own, and found myself looking at this strange creature.  
In all of my three years, I had never seen anything like this kat before. It looked rather like that imaginary creature that the older ones I knew would refer to sometimes. But, would you believe it, they were nearly nineteen.. and so no-one really listened to what they'd say. Except a few.  
"Relax, brother.. All will be clear soon." it said, in some language I had never heard before. Of course, as with any other pokémon, I knew what it was saying. So that's what this thing was, then..? Interesting..  
"This place is my domain. It is timeless, and while here you would never yearn for anything." Looking back, I can't imagine what this scene would have looked like to anyone else. I know what it sounded like to me; I'd found me way into a kat's lair and being a rat, I did not want to be here. Yet, I was unable to say so.  
It was then that I was released from my hold, dropping onto some part of the nothing that had opted to take my weight.  
"I see what you want.." said the kat. Did it really..? I wondered.. "But, I won't let you leave here."  
"Then don't just let me..?" cried I. "I'll try and earn it in some way. If you would so much as understand--"  
"I could.. Though if you leave, trying to do that, I know I shall never hear from you once any task you may do is completed. Perhaps you would never finish, I don't hesitate to guess. Unless..."  
It turned a while, thinking to itself. "Unless... you had the time. More time then you knew what to do with. Then you would return here. To my company. And all would be well. In fact, have longer then I. As an incentive. I can make it happen. You just watch. Are you prepared, rat?"  
At the time, I was unsure what this meant... He's a cruel one, is that Mew. When you aren't doing hat he wants you to do. Then again, he is but a child, so I guess one would expect no less. Just a child...  
Back to then. I was alerted to a definite feeling of psychic heat, similar to an oven that will not burn. And then, things started to contort around me, The blackness, pink-tainted to a strong point, started to spin a little. It seemed like I could see through it.. Above it, around it.. yet I was looking the same way. It was very like if I was watching it at many different points in time..  
Something struck me as weird. I held out my hand in front, and just looked on. It was green coloured. It was very different. It was almost wrong. But it was mine.  
"Truly, this is the beginning of Time, eh rat?" was all the kat offered, before he just turned, and floated away. The darkness, however, stayed with me.  
And then, I was back on top again, looking at the tree where I had been orior all to this. Looking from a point above ground level.  
  
Looking at a rattata, lying dead on the ground. Looking at myself.  
  
I believe I said Fate was a weird thing. Well, it's weird, but it's cruel as well as that. Cruel enough to grant me a thought which accompanies me whenever I go.  
  
I am Celebi. I am Time. Mine is endless. I can be anywhere, for the sole purpose of watching. I will eventually watch anyone I come across become old and fade from the earth like they were never there. Being outside time, I am outside Fate, that mew, as well. And Fate can not be when there is no one else to be fated. He shall cease to be.  
And there thall be me, and me shall there be. And what, praytell, do I do then? What should I do? Go back and start again?  
No. I have to get away from this. This is not me. The Mew can say what he likes, but I shall find a way out of this loop.  
  
Oh, how I yearn for the simplicity of a simple rat again...  
  
---  
  
Fin.  



	2. What I Have Lost

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who is still killing time before the start of school each day  
  
_8:05am, Friday 9th November 2001_  
  
So quiet. And hot. It's that sort of temperature contrast between outside and here which is causing my paw digits to tingle. But, I can still write.  
Today's music is the sound of the school's heating system. Oh, how wonderful. Well, it's better then pop music, anyway...  
This morning's little something is still being mentally formed, so when I'm done rambling on paper, I shall start.  
  
(quick, wasn't it.)  
  
**_#2 - What I Have Lost_**  
- by Mattchu, the raichu with the worst handwriting of anyone he knows  
  
Was there ever something that you treasured over everything else? Go on, admit it, there is. Always is. So what was it for me? It could only have been my vaporeon, who I'd curiously named Lorelei, when I first knew of her. Suits her, because she's elite, in her own special way. Didn't need me around, though it would always be said, "Oh, but Carol, she can't get better if you don't train her.."  
Did I ever say I wasn't trying _not_ to train her? She just doesn't need it. She can train herself. And she would; each day we'd go to the lake, and she'd just dive in and start practicing her set attack routines, while I ate a packed meal, and watched her. She was graceful, and she never deviated from her patterns. Not once.  
Until yesterday, anyway. That day, she was around half way though one of her routines, when she submerged. Now, I'd watched her enough to have a general idea of what she did at certain times.. though I've about as much chance of actually saying what it is she did as I have of diving in and beating her in four laps across the water.. and I did know she wasn't supposed to do that. Some rather waterlogged alert cries went out, as she resurfaced, and swam back towards the bank. Something caught me blindingly in one eye while I watched. I saw then that she had something grasped inside her mouth.  
So, she came back up onto land, and I examined the item closer. It was two necklaces, with two cords which went around the neck. They were both constructed of oddly arranged geometric shapes, triangles, circles, and whatnot.. They were also interlinked together, concentrically. That is, one necklace had a small circle for it's end, and the other had a larger circle, with a hole cut out, exactly big enough for the smaller one to fit inside it.  
"Wonder how someone could leave something like this in the lake..." I said, wistfully, making an attempt to clutch the two from Lorelei's mouth to examine them closer. However, the vaporeon kicked back her head a little as I did this, the two necklaces came apart, I slipped backwards a little ending up on the floor holding a necklace, while Lorelei ended up with the other's cord going around her head, and slipping to a skewed position down her neck. She sat back on haunches, letting the necklace slide against her chest. Really, it was a nice piece of work.  
A little jilted, I took a look at the one I held. It was the outer ring. It's patterns were rather complex, but they repeated themselves, only once. An obvious line was present across the horizontal. Looking at the inner necklace, the same line was present.  
"Okay, these lock together in two positions.." That was correct. The one it was in before was not really suited for wearing by two people. The other one had them facing each other. So one person would be looking right at the other.  
"Seems like a gift someone would give to a married couple. Quite romantic, eh Lorelei?" The water canine just said 'Eon!' and grinned somewhat. It set me giggling, for it was such a weird thing to see on her face, of all expressions she ever had.  
"Hehe.. By the powers invested in me by myself, and this situation.. I now pronounce us pokemon and trainer?" I was in a rather funny mood, so I decided to lock the necklaces together. Leaning forward, Lorelei did the same, I grabbed them, and placed the circle into the ring. And was then suddenly blinded when the two necklaces started glowing. And then everything was still, though I couldn't see anything... before suddenly, reality snapped back into place. My ears rang, but I still couldn't see anything. I felt falling, and then I hit the ground, and the floor was still, and I was not, and I don't remember anything after that.  
  
I awoke, seemingly.. It must have been hours later, the clouds looked further along the sky. My head hurt, and by reflex, I raised a hand up to it. And my eyes were drawn to this unclothed blue arm-like shape, move itself across my field of vision, and touch my head. I was feeling my forehead. It was a cold feeling. Like I was touching water.  
I lost my sense of hearing for a while because my scream deafened myself. My ears rung again, and I ignored that, as I kept moving this water-coloured arm about in my view.. flexing the digits a few times.. Then, I tried to stand up. But my legs caught up somehow, and I fell forwards, luckily not hitting my head, as it landed facing over the edge of the rock side. I gaped.  
A vaporeon stared back at me. It had all the features I'd associate with one, except the head was a little narrower on the sides. Quite like the shape of a normal human head. But other then that, I could have been looking at Lorelei herself.  
  
Until it occurred to me that I was doing.  
  
'This is me?' I thought.It was hard to believe, but as I cast my gaze behind me, seeing two legs, yes.. Both blue, slightly translucent, and one was entwined slightly with another protrusion, this time from my lower back. It ended in a fin. It was a tail. And it moved when I asked it to, though not too much, since it was trapped by the leg. I now know what I had tripped on. And, I gazed back at the water, and looked at the water. And I wondered where Lorelei was.  
I saw where she now was, in that water. Her change had not been lossless, quite obviously. Now was the time for thought.  
"Well... I haven't lost her, really.." I told myself. "In fact.. I could even say I'll never lose her now." I did find comfort with that thought. A jaded sort, one that twists with your perception, until all you know is what it says, and all you knew before is made to be lies. Comfort, however, is the watchword, and it's what I was needing at that moment..  
  
Sitting upon that rock, overlooking the lake.. Always had it relaxed me, but now it seemed more calming then ever before; a place of sanctuary within the stress I was in.. a source of unwind for a still confused mind, with everything it had ever know being called into question.. The water was so inviting.. If it would have, it would have welcomed me into it's embrace with arms similar to mine. Until I thought, and that's what I wanted as well.  
So, by default, I removed the necklace.. this that seemed to have cause it. It was foreign; it had no place in sanctuary. And somehow, I wanted it off just then. So, I did. I lay hands upon the cord, and pulled it off. It was unhindered; I had not the hair that was there when I put it on. I turned, to put the neck-wrapping behind me, when suddenly, everything started to stiffen up. My lower half spun, so I was facing inland, from a crouched position. Everything was shaking. I grabbed the back of my head with both arms, crouching lower. I could feel something happening. My hands detected the head was not content to stay human-shaped and was now altering itself. And then.. my hands could feel nothing. My senses told me I had both my hands touching the ground. But that was wrong.. And before I could work out what was going on, my back arched forward a little. The rock did not give. Instead, I moved back a way. But it was enough, and the new position didn't anchor me. I slipped sideways, rolling into the waters, with a rather mangled cry, that I'm not even sure of while looking back onto it.  
And then, I was making my way across the lake.. water passing by eyes that did not care, they were perfectly content to be open while submerged. A tail was lashing about behind. I looked to my arms. Which weren't arms, as such. More like front limbs, ended with some front paws. Ones alike to what Lorelei had. I closed my eyes then, and just went with the flow.  
  
I lost track of the time I spent in there. I know that when I finally resurfaced, it was the middle of the day. I don't know which day, but that's what it was. As my short term memory started to inform me of proceedings I had just done.. I realised with surprised cries.. vaporeon cries, most definitely, that held little meaning to me.. that I had just run through one of Lorelei's patterns. Over, and over. However, I still didn't really feel any more enlightened as to what and how they were co-ordinated. Some more thought was wanted, and swimming back to that rock, I resurfaced, and jumped atop it.. turning to look back at a sun reflecting on slight ripples left by my actions. Sitting, crouched, with four legs together, chest and head up. Just like you would see any vaporeon do.  
  
I wonder. Before this moment, I thought I had lost a friend for good. I convinced myself quite easily that she wasn't really lost, that she'd always be with me in spirit.. and in body as well. Obviously, seeming what I was left as. Convincing myself I had not lost anything; no, that was wrong. That didn't work. I had made a loss that day.  
  
I question myself again. What is the thing I treasured the most.. that now is lost and gone forever? I can tell you, though it took a long time to get it. I have lost myself. My identity. Everything I was went at the touch of a necklace. And all that is left is the one testament to my achievements. A vaporeon, one that is quite a bit younger then when she came here with me. The reflection I look at now can not be any more then two or three years of age. Lorelei was twelve.  
From death is her life. Except it isn't really death. Nor is it really life. But it's close enough.  
  
I picked up the necklaces. I know now that Lorelei was human once, long long ago. Cursed to do what she does for as long as time goes on. Someone is always drawn to the catch. And then to the necklaces. And then to her. Never does it end.  
  
I don't really care, though. No. I didn't care when masses of people came by. They didn't find Carol, no. They didn't find anything to suggest she'd even been here. The only thing they found, was me. And since Lorelei was allegedly much much older then I, I was not counted. I just sat in the lake, and practiced routines. Again, and again. And waited.  
  
A vaporeon, yes, that is all they found. She who knew everything they wanted to know. But who couldn't tell them anything.  
  
And wouldn't, even if she could.  
  
---  
  
Fin.  



	3. On the Flip Side

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who is killing free time he got from a break in the school day  
  
_4:56pm, Monday 12th November__ 2001_  
  
Wonderful. Today I did a lot of rushing about; my paws were killing me more then I do to time with these stories.. Bus there, walked back, taxi there.. to find out I only have half a day today. Well, that was a relief.. I planned to use my time I would be at school to do something.. but I was tired, so I took a nap. Woke up again some time later, ate, vegetated. And now I have some time to recoup. And I owe you a story, as well. My net connection is playing about again, and shocking it does no good whatsoever. I think writing now would be a good idea.  
  
_**#3 - On the Flip Side**_  
- a tale of relativity from the narrowest reaches of the raichu's mind  
  
She beats him. She beats him, and she knows she does. He doesn't like it. I can see the pain in his eyes.  
  
I'm not sure what he called himself. All pokemon had a name that they used between themselves. Vulpixes, vain as some were, were most definitely not an exception. Mainly because humans can't understand us, have no chance deciphering what we say, much less trying to say the true name of one. So they give them names that /they/ can understand. The thing with him.. he'd been beaten to the point where he would only respond to the name she gave him. She called him Kitsune. Not bad, by any means, for a human given name.. At least its meaning was adequate. However, it wasn't who -he- was. But, yet, it was. Because he didn't know anything else any more.  
  
She didn't have a name. I never heard him say it; even though she couldn't hear what he said, he always called her 'Miss'. It's disgusting, the things some humans will reduce their faithful friends to. Truly. They gain trust and now.. this?  
  
It can be identified what sort of treatment was there by looking at Kitsune. Starting at the head. A bandage looped around each ear, just a few turns about each base. They were crudely secured with four pins each.. Wait, no. Just two pins each. My mistake.. All four of the pins had both ends made blunt by the addition of a bit of cork. However, the pins went right through. Had to. Pained him constantly. It's a shame to see.  
Around either side, a bandage went right around the head.. a turn dropping to cover one of the eyes. To remove that would reveal emptiness. A particularly bad encounter with a kitchen knife meant Kitsune only had the one eye.  
She forced him to eat the other, as well. "Waste not, want not." she called it. Sadist. Rot and die. You just don't do that. For any reason.  
  
Each of the feet were fully bandaged, as well. Tapering as they were, these ones were secured with six inch nails. Either one or two, through each leg. Bearing in mind how broken bones can get, it has to be wondered whether this helped secure some plates inside more then it caused pain to the pokemon in question. I couldn't tell. The pain was there even without all this happening in the physical nature of things. It didn't need to be viewed to be seen. It was in the eyes.  
His fur was mottled with shades of red, from the darkened blood clots to the light places where fur just wouldn't grow properly any more. The remaining scratched eye was coloured in swirls of sickly green, blood red, and black. Two tails were cut to the stump, one more was only half there, and the others were bent, bandaged, and very beaten. See, one of her forms of obedience training involved tent pegs and those tails. Doesn't bear thinking about, does it..  
  
Muchly do I hope my retelling has managed to justify some action. I can see you thinking, why doesn't anyone do anything? It beats me, because I don't really know. But I was passing, and thus, I decided to take some action.  
  
And so it was, that very late that night, I appeared to Kitsune, and I told him of what I knew. And I said things as thus.  
"I hope you will listen.. for I have a way to get you away from this."  
"But don't hurt her! She's.. nice trainer.. Always. Doing what is best--" His eye flickered a little. I sighed..  
"Well, she won't be hurt then. But I will do something. Just get her to follow you out tomorrow. Leave the rest to me.."  
I got a nod which I assumed was confirmation, and then he trundled slowly away, to sleep. He wasn't supposed to be awake at this time. If he was tired when she got up, he received a bucketful of water over his head. Not fun..  
  
I made my preparations. I sat in wait. He would hopefully be here soon. I waited on and on. I thought about everything he'd ended up going through. And I wondered what would happen after we had freed him. Who was to know.  
  
The morning arrived, rather troubled.. taking a bit of easing up before finally getting itself in gear. Much was the same for Kitsune; however, his human preferred using a floor brush.  
"Geddup there, lazy ass." she muttered. Kitsune responded rather abruptly.. by scarpering out of the door she entered in. Watching for a minute... "HEY! Oh, you are gonna be in for it when I catch up with you..."  
Peeking back through the door, Kitsune was just strolling, in front of a window. Which had been left open. And then he was out of the window, and nothing was there.  
"I -really- don't need this.." She ran to her front door, and opened it, where the vulpix was standing outside. "Now, you, look. Come back here RIGHT NOW.. and I won't beat you too hard. Deal?"  
Kitsune fanned the tails, rather creakily.. before run-jumping the front wall of the garden, and trotting off down the street. He knew where he was supposed to be going. An irate trainer vaulted the wall and came after. He ran. She ran. The chase was on.  
  
Kitsune was in great pain by the time he reached the town's lake. It was fairly early in the day, so this area was deserted. Not so far behind was her worn out trainer. Personally, I don't think she isn't worthy of calling by name, so I'm not going to.  
"You are.. so dead.. when I catch up with you..." she says, obviously tired out.. Kitsune stayed still, by the water's edge. Dangerous place for a firetype.. but still, this is where he should be..  
  
Then, I came in. Something swooped directly past that gal, and she was startled, and slightly blinded.. Stumbling, Kitsune got low to the ground.. I rammed into her side, she stumbled into Kitsune, tripped, and went splash. There was a bit of flailing for a while, and Kitsune watched on. Of course, most humans could easily get out of water. So I'd arranged a little something extra. See, Kitsune turned to glance at me.. and when he looked back, the lake was empty.  
  
  
She did come to shore. Though, it was a different shore. It was sand. It was weird.  
"..Where the hell..." she muttered. Everywhere else was forestlike. She wandered in, trying to make sense of where she was. The greenery was like a blanket; translucent, rather hard to pass, and very annoying for the girl..  
Until, suddenly, all force ahead was lost, and she stumble-fell into a clearing. And almost screamed.  
  
Sitting on a fellen tree, doing some cleaning, were some rather odd beings. She knew them to be like pokemon.. however, they were around her height. There was a Rattata with a humanlike body, wearing clothing, and rummaging through a bad for something.. There was a Raichu, eyes vacant, busy looking at a female Nidorina, who was teasing him rather sensually. And it was her who noticed the girl.  
~( I think someone's next catch just entered the circle.. )~  
The Raichu noticed it. Ignored it. And suckled on one of the ear growings of the female. ~( Leave it to Skitty.. he hasn't had any catches for a long while.. )~  
~( I hear you talking about one of the humans? )~ he muttered, not looking up.  
~( Get your head out of the bag and look, dummy. )~ said the Raichu, whipping him rather forcefully with a long, flowing tail. Skitty looked up.. and coughed. ~( Looks fine. You sure you two aren't interested? )~  
~( ...We're busy. )~ said the Nido-femme. ~( Do yourself proud. )~  
  
She didn't understand any of the above exchange. All she knew was that the rat thing was now advancing on her with what appeared to be.. a pokeball. Ha ha. Er, no.  
"You can't be serious.." she said. And that's the last thing she said, before the ball was flung. And everything ent black.  
  
~( Woah! I never seen any of them go so damn EASILY! )~ Skitty shouted, tail wagging about a bit. The purple figure turned back. ~( Makes me feel a little dominant, eh..? Maybe I'll get my turn, Poisonpin.. )~  
~( Oh no. Go find yourself some plant-chick or something. Or.. or maybe that Poppo wi' the glasses. You rodents get along fine with those birds, don'cha? )~  
~( Seriously? )~ Skitty said, as he wandered up and picked up the ball. ~( Maybe she'd want to play soccer with this catch here. Or hang it by it's nose to a tree. )~  
~( Yeah, right.. Sounds too lame for her. She's more likely to break both its legs and tie them up around its head. Nails through them, as well. Says some god told her to do it, or something. )~  
  
Deserving. They'd think up something torturous. Normally did. With a little help...  
  
So, what happened to Kitsune after that? Not much.. He felt happy to be free, and finally able to live again. Wonderful.  
So when I killed him, I had to wonder. Was that really fair at all? I mean, I coulda removed all the bits of metal, fixed the legs, the tail, the lot.. Even the eye. Yet I felt he was suffering too much. So I gashed his neck real bad, flamed the rest, and threw him in the lake.  
  
There's one thing with me. I don't do anything for nothing. Is such a pity to watch someone build up trust only to be treated like that. I said that earlier, I think.. Sometimes. Sometimes I wonder.  
  
But I think. I'm the fire bird. I'm supposed to be naturally aggressive. Goes with the symbolism.  
I was put on the flip side too. But then, this is better then being stuck as a human in that place, anyway.  
  
And you ever wondered why pokemon scientists tell you to be nice to your pokemon. Well, now you know.  
  
Enjoy your life. Just do. I've got to go now. Catch ya later.  
  
---  
  
Fin.  



	4. Birthday Wish

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who has gone back to killing time before school each day  
  
I'm sat in the remnants of the rec room. Staff had some sort of serious do; I'm unable to rest my bit of paper on a table. My leg does fine, though; just can't press the pen too hard, or I'll end up shocking the hell out of my work.  
With this in mind, here's a rather weird little story, tat makes no sense whatsoever. So I hear you say; "Just another day of Bored Raichu Tales." Yeah, well. Perhaps you're right.  
  
_**#4 - Birthday Wish**_  
- by the raichu of much insane thought  
  
Dave still enjoyed birthday parties. More junk food then one would ever eat in a week, but someone it was managed, and more besides. Maybe just something that happens this one day, whereby the stomach expands to fill the legs as well, and then traverses, becoming an infinite void. More fun, he supposed.  
Anyway. He was twelve today, and at the end of this day the familiar birthday cake was produced.  
"Make a wish, Dave." said his parents.  
So he did. It was a good wish, thought he, and it was what was on his mind as he set about blowing out the candles. But the sound of cheer was slightly disdained. Even from another side of the room, Dave's Cat, named Marauder, had to sit back and watch. Because he knew something. Something that Dave was about to find out.  
  
The kid lost several inches in size, and started to pale. It got to a point where his clothing was cloaking him from being seen, even.. An eternity later.. out poked a head.Just as a couple of feline ears popped into place. Then, some contortion, as a large snout-like front came on to it, obscuring the mouth. A long tail started to slide from under the pile of clothing.. snaking out as it grew, developing a slight bulge at its tip. The thing mewed, before glancing at everyone in the room.  
"..What the hell did you wish for, Dave..?" some random figure asked. Children are surprisingly open minded.. so none of them found anything to fear when their friend suddenly transformed into a kitty-like thing in front of them.  
{ Can't say. } a voice said, inside people's heads. The mew didn't look to have spoken.. { Wouldn't come true then, would it? }  
  
Bear in mind that this existence knew nothing of pokemon, so no one knew what this thing actually was. It reminded them of a cat, but.. it wasn't quite.. ordinary. And it didn't have to speak to communicate, either..  
The conversing continued. "Hasn't it already come true?"  
The mew gave a knowing glance. { It hasn't finished yet. } he 'said', with an eyebrow raise, a nod of the head, and a final -click- as he shook free of the clothing. His legs had become shorter, and his feet were a sight larger then they ought to be. The tail gave a bit of a flick, as one would see a cat do.  
Of course, the parents had very little to add, or indeed say.. for a small nudge in their lower backs saw the appearance of tails in those two as well. Before the heights started to lower rather dramatically. Dave could only have been two feet high or so.  
And, perhaps more surprisingly.. No one commented out of the rest of the people there.. They were too busy watching each other fall, in the same way. Dave's change had something of a domino effect, it seemed..  
"What sort of jok----" someone began.. before they couldn't speak any more, and they were drawn to being feline, just as others before him had been. The fully developed Dave, then looked about with eyes so pink.. and began to life himself in the air, somehow. Now, this did get everyone's attention.. little preoccupied with the tails doing in their clothing, then what the first mew was busy doing..  
{ Uh.. I don't know exactly what's happening now.. But it doesn't seem all -that- bad.. } said he. But everywhere was silent, And still. And his neck hurt. Something had bit at it. It hurt a lot.  
  
The neighbour, who had heard the raucous noise from here when people had started.. just gazed aroud the room, where all derivative of mew and mewlike creatures were stood. Still changing, too.  
"What in God's name is all of this?" he said, mostly looking at the one he'd just sliced a new mouth for, who was getting blood over his nice shoes..  
{ You may be about to find out. } said the mew that had been Dave's father. His compassion was quite lost; animals didn't always notice their dead. And neither did the neighbour, after a while. He was too busy watching his hand.. no, his paw.. which clasped the weapon. It was large. And pale. And then everything spun, and the ground got a lot closer, suddenly..  
  
-  
  
Somewhere, in a nothingnes of black, uncharted and unnoticed.. a faint mew figure floated, asleep to the emptiness around it.. Thoughts running through his mind were the things which had happened.. which he had done, though the power of something unknown. Perhaps their kind would be better as mews. However, you never got a wish like that for nothing. And he was here to pay that something out.  
"But.. I just wanted.. wished for something unusual.." he said.. No one heard him, no one was there to. All became silent then.. and he pondered how to spend the rest of forever.  
  
Trapped, for bestowing an evolutionary step. Not the best attitude they could have. But, this place would soon fill.. Because there was bound to be more casualties along the way, weren't there?  
  
And all he could do is wait. And wait is what he did.  
  
---  
  
Fin.  



	5. The Waiting Game

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who is much too ill to be able to kill time to any sort of capacity  
  
_6:11pm, Friday 16th November 2001_  
  
Being ill can do some very weird things to one's mind. So can reading while ill. So here, from somewhere in the uncharted depths, is a rather weird piece of writing, even if I do say so myself.  
  
The poem isn't really a poem.. it's just something that is being said as well. Maybe. I'm not really sure any more.  
  
_**#5 - The Waiting Game**_  
- written by a raichu, so far out of his league  
  
_A heartbeat sounds empty across a vast amount of space.__  
__I know not if it is mine, and I don't really care.__  
__I play the waiting game.__  
__  
__Lupp-dub. Lupp-dub.__  
__My choice of sounding words is not too good.__  
__Can you hear it?__  
__Close your ears for a second, there is something in the way__  
_  
--  
  
A day mattered not so to the woman without a name. She did have a name, but it was unimportant, since no one actually used it, anyway. Though, for the record,  
_(it is not you)_  
the name is Carly. Her world for the last however long had consisted of the park bench upon which she was sat, either watching the sun, the weather, seeking shelter from the elements, or listening to strains of classical music from the eccentric old man that would sit at a bench further down. This was the short version of Hard Luck.  
  
--  
  
_The question posed is simple;__  
__Who are you, and why do you not return?__  
__I'm sure you must be feeling the strain__  
__because you're playing the waiting game, as well__  
_  
--  
  
The days sucked. Sucked worse then a bad thing. Worse then a Really Bad Thing, of the sort only a higher deity could inflict. Maybe that was her fate, indeed. Disillusioned by everything, she had set off into the woods surrounding the park. Searching for a new existence. Searching for something lost.  
Searching for herself?  
  
--  
  
_This diseased mind can't hope to win__  
__for I know that when it comes down to it that__  
__maybe this seemed like a good idea at the time__  
__but now we're all just being dragged along__  
__  
__ "Who's there?" called you__  
__ and no reply met that call__  
__ for I was still playing the waiting game__  
__ a cursed existence leaves no sound behind.__  
_  
--  
  
She was wanted by someone. Or something. The reason the days were so bad is because she could never find serenity any more; everything was wrong in the bad sense, and she just wanted to find the past again.  
And that voice in her head was none the wiser about what she could do; she knew of it, but not who it was.  
Though, she felt like there was something she should remember.  
  
--  
  
_Time flies for some people, higher then the birds__  
__And yet some say they have had their fill__  
__It takes a very strong will and a stronger aim__  
__if one is to beat the waiting game.__  
_  
--  
  
  
Carly had taken in a little bit too much alcohol the night before. She had woken on a park bench, and her mind was flowing in circles, faster then a whirlpool; she didn't know what was going on anymore. It was like she knew this place, even though a look at a sign told her this place was many thousands of miles away from her home. It defied comprehension how she could have got here in the space of one night, especially while under the influence. So, she got herself into a certain mood. If she'd walked it here once, she could walk it back. Taking some rudimentary bearings by the sun - which were false ones, mind; the ability of someone to navigate their way to their house from around the corner is muchly in doubt, so trying to navigate oneself home across a continent in the same fashion was to prove out of her reach. Still, she thought she could do it. So she walked on, in the same direction. And when she met the woodland on the outside of the park, she sussed out she could cut back through it.  
It was tough going, especially when you couldn't stand upright for any longer then thirty seconds. It took her quite a number of minutes before she was inside the woodland, and by then she couldn't see the sun any more; just green light veiled brightly through overhanging canopies of trees, setting the area up very much like a lantern. It was quite serene here. And she maintained to herself that she knew where she was going.  
  
Something else was going through the woods at this time. It was an Abra; a small brown pokemon, without the obvious sight that most pokemon have. To note what it was doing, it seemed to be tracking something. It found it's target, in the form of Carly, wandering through the clearing by her own merit.  
  
  
--  
  
  
She had been led, she had thought, but for things as simple as walking home  
_(why walk? Just wait some more)_  
it had to be wondered whether she knew where she was trying to get to at all. For  
_(I can't see you)_  
she couldn't see anything, indeed, apart from green and more green. And a dab of brown, offcast like something just threw it in there, randomly.  
  
Who was the voice? Her? Maybe it was what she was looking for. Maybe it was actually looking for her.  
  
And suddenly, she really couldn't see anything any more, because everything had clouded over, with a blue white light. Perhaps now she wasn't asleep, she could appreciate why she woke up so far from home.  
  
  
--  
  
"Well, my dear.. It appears you've finally been located.. after, well.. Three years longer then anyone would have hoped. But you see, you have something belonging to another client of mine. Who'd like it back."  
The old man looked at the resting form of Carly, who was lying on a chair in what seemed to be a log cabin. Swifter then the attack itself, he removed the face of the female like it wasn't even attached properly. Of course, closer merit showed he had a very nicely crafted piece of some material, done up in the shape of a female human's face.  
Sitting back on the chair now was a bemused Persian, who just looked at the man opposite. And knew nothing of the events that had taken place beforehand -- apart from that she had been late to return.  
~( So I overestimated my own thinking.. I'm duly sorry, sir. )~  
"Yes, I understand. Rather unfair of you to keep Carly here for much longer then she had agreed, isn't it? But, I don't suppose I can blame you." The bit of material disappeared, and the man thought to himself.  
~( So.. I can return home now? )~ said the Persian, who got off the chair. Human furniture made her uncomfortable.  
"Ah.. Well, you see.. I have to make up that extra time. You know how I get to do that, though, don't you."  
The Persian sighed.. but shrugged, anyway. ~( I suppose.. )~  
  
"Good." said the man. Who by that time had hold of a rather ornate jar, one of several on a cupboard made especially for that sort of thing. He removed the lid, and placed it on the floor, before heading over to a quaint little black stove, where he put an old jug on the boil. He wanted a nice drink after all this; it wasn't often he had to put on his Abra garb and go after someone. And it drained him a little. But tea was the eternal cure, it would soon fix him right up...  
He let that boil, as he turned back to the Persian in his wake. The jar was filled with some sort of strange presence.. which he lidded up, and placed on the cupboard.  
"Oh, don't worry about it. Three years passes quickly."  
And in one turn, he scooped up that which was left on the floor. A rather neatly sized garment, resmbling the hide of a Persian. And walking to a blank side of the room, he placed the garment very carefully on a hook, next to countless more equally sized ones, on a whole lot of similar hangings.  
"You probably won't be bored, either. I know cat pokemon are in high demand every so often. But, still. It's just a matter of waiting it out." he said into thin air. Before proceeding back to where some steam was coming off a carefully heated pot. Today had been successful, and now he would alleviate his thirst.  
  
--  
  
_Convinced may you be that the waiting is done__  
__It marks off a new one, just begun__  
__The trick is to keep your essence sane__  
__while made to endure the waiting game.__  
_  
  
----  
  
Fin.  
  
  



	6. Impossibility

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, killing his writing block and taking out time before school with the same blow  
  
_11:09pm, Wednesday 28th November 2001_  
  
Today needs a change. I can write a bit better about things I know then things I make up. And because shaking off writing block is hard, I'll share you a nice little personal tidbit. Read and learn. And appreciate, if you want.  
  
_**#6 - Impossibility: Tale of the Bored Raichu**_  
  
I have long held the notion that 'impossible' is a bad definition of itself. Impossible things truely can be done; however, an equally impossible reaction will remove the event and anything involved from all known existence, and memory, in order to preserve everyone else.  
Seems screwed up, doesn't it? Well, perception _is_ everything, so it might not be as far-fetched as it sounds.  
  
Take today, for instance. School deftly annoys, even the most apathetic people sometimes feel patronised. So maybe it was a little fortunate that I chanced upon a spot of boredness one lesson, and sporadically began to write. It was a story about someone exceptionally similar to myself, going through my daily routine. I say 'exceptionally similar' as the person in my story did one thing that I could not. At lunch, he found something in his backpack, and for reasons unexplained, it transfigured him into the electric rodent, Raichu. At the time of completing it, I was quite pleased with just finishing at that point. I had no real prowess as a writer. And I thought nothing else of the subject for quite a while.  
  
Some time before lunch, something had felt rather odd. There was an event depicted in my story that stuck out, and I decided to read over it. It went like this.  
_ ~( Today__, of all days, was not so bad. All classes have an obnoxious airheaded female somewhere, it's like an unwritten rule. The unlucky ones get two. However, neither of them were here today. Lucky me. )~_  
They'd been here the lesson previously. They weren't here now. I wondered over this.. before I wondered. Why was I thinking over this, they'd never been at school today.. I almost choked on air, and coughed a few times. My mind noted an irregularity. I shuddered slightly, and went back to working for once. This was perhaps a little confusing...  
  
My writings depicted lunch very well. Pizza was indeed on the menu. At the time, forcibly going against my writing did not sound good. It didn't sound particularly sane, either.  
I sat alone. The person in the story sat alone. I then decided following a written story was not so good to do, took a leap of faith, and dropped my knife 'accidentally' on the floor. No mention of that in story. I hadn't written it. And I really wasn't going mad, either. All was now well.  
Perhaps a sense of paranoia after that told me that I should reread. Hey, I knew what I'd written.. and there was nothing at all about this in there. It wasn't a long story, I found the part about lunch in little time at all. And then stared.  
_ ~( Lunch can only be noted for one thing; I dropped my knife on the floor. Didn't bother to get a new one, no real point really. I didn't use the knife while eating that day. )~  
_I looked at it, read it backwards, forwards.. Then, I felt the need for some air. And got up, and went outside, leaving a half eaten lunch on the table. Now things definitely weren't making sense. Had I written that paragraph? Was it writing itself? It felt hopeless, nothing I could have done would prevent the course of the story. At that point, there was only one thing to do. I went to get my backpack.  
  
"I don't know what is orchestrating this, but you've won. You hear?" I mumbled rather deliberately as I looked through the pack. Many items of clothing, a couple of books.. and several pieces of fluff. But, nothing else. A little curious, I reread the story again.. Perhaps something else had changed this time.  
_ ~( After lunch, I got my bag as usual, and I headed for PE but on the way, I stumbled some, and dropped it. A loose zip meant the top split, and some of my kit was scattered a way across the floor. Assembling them back inside, I turned to walk away, before noticing something else that seemed to have fallen from the bag. It didn't look like anything I knew existed.. and it was odd in its own right...)~  
  
_Had I won? I went away to PE as I normally would.. it was perfect on that regard. My lack of thought caused me to plough into someone, and the jolt caused me to lose the grip on my bag.  
The other person mumbled, and moved away. I picked up the bag. No loose zip. All was fine. It seemed I was just paranoid, or something.  
And the rest of the day went just fine.  
  
Both story and bag ended up, former on latter, on a spare chair in the front room, while I sat back on the couch and relaxed to some unhealthily loud music. Nothing like it, in my opinion... Like that it stayed for a good while... before it just suddenly stopped, for no obvious reason.  
A weird, somewhat dark-looking nineteen year old looked upon me from the direction of the sound system.  
"I still don't know how you do that." I said.  
"When _you_ have loud music on 24/7, it's not hard to sneak anywhere in your vicinity." said she.  
Yes, of course I knew her. She was my sister.  
"I was taking a look at this story of yours... What the hell do you think you're doing? Trying to follow in my shoes, eh?" she commented. I kept quiet. Well, hey, everyone has to start somewhere, so why not with your sister, the one who just happens to have been writing for as long as you can remember...  
"Anyway. Being that I'm a mentor without being asked.. I decided to rewrite your ending a little. Needs the work. But hey, anything for you, right? Normally I'd charge for this service, but I got paid already and you're family, so you're let off the hook." She shrugged, and headed off for the kitchen. "Now, your central problem is that you do things logically. It's nice to think like that, but remember; you make the rules when it's down on paper. So toy with it. Anything goes on paper, don't forget.." And then she was gone.  
Left behind on top of the sound system was my story, with what looked like an extra bit of paper. Added an ending? More like wrote the same thing twice... Oh, the handwriting was changed noticeably, it was of a deathly cute style, and I knew it well. Curl the w's, cross the o's, and circle the i's and j's. I put the music back on and read.  
_~( He stepped outside. Even then, he could feel something was misplaced with today. Not quite right. He checked through his bag, to find nothing of any iregularity. He was more satisfied then he perhaps ought to have been, and he went off to P.E., walking into someone else on the way. )~_  
  
And then followed about a page. He looked at it, and read, rather quickly. It had his day described, to the letter. But his sister didn't go to school any more, especially not his own... A nagging feeling appeared, and he read on, and on, and neared the end of the paper. Until;  
_~( Listening to music, he relaxed, convinced today was over. But it was not. And the music halted, abruptly. )~_  
  
"And from the kitchen walked his sister, reciting some things she had written down. He became anxious; had she ended the story? What exactly would this be leading to?" His sister stood against the door frame of the kitchen, reading off a bit of paper. "A story that plays out in reality as it is written.. It's the dream of many. A few can just do it whenever they please.. So we'll see how far we can take things."  
"What the hell is going on here?" said I.  
"Something wrong? I'm just reading my ending here.. I'm good at telling out how people act. It's like a trait. Oh, one thing I did want to comment on.. You have my writing style down rather well. What I don't get is why you started using it a page from the end. And another tip, keep your description constant. The change was a little underdone. Though it seems you rewrote that, and noticed.."  
I could do nothing. "You didn't write this?"  
"It was there when I read it. Eh, you predicted yourself very well. I do think you'd be better as a burakki then a raichuu, but I didn't change what was written." I stared at her like she was mad, and she looked back.  
"Ah.. You think..? Hee... Stop playing games with me. I'm your sister, I can see through all of this.." She said. "Anyway, I'll continue reading this out. I don't think it's too bad an ending, myself." And off she went, reading over the top of a rather frantic-sounding self. "He was so agitated by the recitation of his work that he tried to get upstairs. However, a certain transformation had yet to catch him up, and it took now to do it, immobilizing him, reshaping him against his will."  
My recollection of this event ceases here.  
  
---  
  
"Sound good? Worship the twist ending, bro, it'll do your readers happy. If you ever get any that aren't me. Anyway, I spent pages doing the change description, those things are so fun.. You can read it in your own time, it's too much to read out here." And she brought the page down, and watched the figure that was now lying on the floor. Funny.. that's how the guy had looked in her description, right when..  
A thinnish tail slid out of the waistline of the pants. She stifled a yell, and just watched as her description became reality before her eyes. Speechless, as her pages dropped to the floor. Somehow she knew that any writing she could do now would not do anything. Because she'd ended this story. She glanced at her page again.. There was a few lines. Perhaps now wasn't too late to do something.  
So she wrote some things.  
_~( Fate had decided the changed creation could not come to exist here. So instead, he ended up in some other reality, a different place.. A place that wasn't really there. Many times was he at school, and many times while there was he bored. And stories he did write. Perhaps he could undo things. Practice is perfection, after all. )~_  
  
And there she ended it. She picked up her dropped sheets, and headed for upstairs. Now, all she had to do was wait.  
  
  
----  
  
Fin.  



	7. Meeting

**Tales of a Bored Raichu**, who isn't writing as fast as he might like to  
  
_9:28pm, Sunday 2nd December 2001  
  
_Ok. Another day, another story. This half hour is becoming not enough to write a 'full length' short story any more. So, in a bid to try and solve this, I'll focus some more in detail rather then actual plot.  
Though, if you think I know what this is going to achieve, you would be very mistaken.  
  
_**#7 - Meeting**_  
  
Sun-dry leaves sat, tanning in solar warmth, on one of many trees that loomed over the walk, like the tall buildings somewhere far, but nearby, standing tall over even these trees, dwarfing the city-engulfed area in almost complete darkness.  
Here though... it was fairly serene, a masked aura of green covering the walk itself. And covering a figure stood, waving a little in slight winds; he wore an untied black coat, and could easily be looked over to a passer-by as just some other person. His eyes, though, they were coloured differently, one being blue, and the other being grey. Aside from these, he didn't look out of the ordinary, like a permanent statue out taking the sieved sun that morning.  
But, he was not all that graced the walk that minute. To the way he was not looking, there strolled another person. who would almost be in awe of herself. It was a fragment of time cut out of fiction, almost; everything seemed jaded and slow. The women boasted long, pale blue hair, that flowed to mid back, as well as hidden sandals, under the canopy of soft yellow that was a flowing dress. Her eyes could not be noticed, hidden from sight by some rather bland sunglasses that, however small, did their job just fine.  
The walkway was clear, and easily wide enough to fit more then five or six people across. However, she was walking in a predetermined line, and her path let her brush just past the man.. who for no reason closed his eyes almost at the same moment. A presence touched him, something unknown to most people.. telling him it was not directly from the person that just walked by. That would be too conventional, it comforted. But it was here, and it held him still, lost to the world, for a few minutes. Then, it went back on itself, and the man was drawn to follow the woman, turning slowly, and walking away, at quite a pace.  
  
The air here stank most heavily of city fumes; it was unfortunate how some cities were turning out, but intentionally he was allowed to detect those scents disappearing, replaced by something else as he tracked the walking figure. She was ignorant of him, and possibly because of this she had begun skipping along. She was not as young as to normally be doing something like that, by any means. The something else that filled the air was of fruit, a mixed blend, a delicacy. He lost himself for a while, yet again, and when he found himself, he had stopped. Not on the walk, he was somewhere among the trees to each side. Or maybe he was somewhere different entirely.. the sun seemed brighter, and the aura more green, then ever he'd have thought could be reached in this small little city park.  
The woman was behind him, as well. He knew that straight away, but he did not turn. It was like he was waiting for something. And she reacted, unexpectedly, placing both hands on the nape of his neck. Her look was not typical of a woman in the situation that it appeared at, for first glance. It was more of someone with a dilemma. Maybe this was touched on, when she whispered something so light, that it may not have been speech at all..  
"I'm sorry."  
And she almost whipped her hands downwards, slipping them down the back of the guy, deliberate and quick. Where the right hand had gone lay a diagonal tear, that broke coat, broke shirt, broke skin. The edges of all layers began to seep a rather dirty red colour then, becoming tainted.  
Some of this fluid got to the woman herself, as well.. to a single, stiff, pale grey claw, that was now coated on one side with a few strands of body hair and an amount of blood at the volume that it was not able to stay held to the claw, and fell off, to the floor. Surprisingly, he felt no pain in this. The pain was felt only by the woman, who turned rather sharply, not saying another word, and headed away. Presumably, to head back towards the walkway.  
Somehow, he detected this. And tried to turn, to follow. But he was rendered unable to, not by any such presence now, but just by what seemed natural. He was not supposed to move, so he didn't. And an itch on his hands told him why. Something underlying was kicking itself into a shape other then normal. The outside layers seemed to flow into place, creating a seemingly twisted version of a paw, on each hand. The hands were then lost, as his arms would not reach to the end of the clothing's long sleeves. A loss in height was also becoming apparent, slight nausea following a heat wave, and a progressive growing of fur all around the guy. Falling forwards, he landed onto shaky, but now natural, paws. The greenery of the surrounding wavered a little to blue.. then circled the spectrum, and slid back in, a slightly greener green then ever he'd seen. One blink told it all; pupils now being indistinguishable from the rest of the eye, though the eyes still rather ominously held their previous colour behind the blackness; a solid ebb. Then, the clothing around the back was torn profoundly by the protrusion of a tail, a brown tail, one with a white tip. Giving a rather husky eevee-like cry, for that is what he would soon be, just as his head slipped under the bundle of clothing, and nothing more of the man could then be seen.  
  
  
"I still don't know why I couldn't have left my brother be.." she said to the air as it passed by. Somewhere, she did know; whether he'd tried to or not, the eevee had been killed as a result of something he'd done, and therefore, it was her job to set the balance right again. Ah, yes.. the balance.. A fateful encounter in a time she'd forgotten had left her having to take care of this for as long as she could. It is what she did, and normally she didn't mind it. But she'd never had to enact it upon one of her family before...  
The eevee then came out of the brush, trailing her. That was another thing it wanted to do; she'd tried to let it be, to not watch what her brother had become.. But, it would still follow her for a while. She turned, and watched it there, obviously she hadn't gone far, couldn't go far.. an overpowering feeling of guilt, almost betrayal in a sense.. something that threatened to rip her apart inside first.  
"This is so bloody unfair..." she said, stamping the ground lightly, and turning, to run a pain-stricken hand through her sibling's fur. It was so warm, like it had been when she cut him those minutes ago. She could still feel a healing wound underneath.  
_~__( You should feel like that. )~_ said the voice. _~( But it can't be helped, I'm afraid. You know that as well as I. )~_  
She didn't believe that for a second. Rather furious, she cradled the eevee and walked on, searching for some respite, for a solution, just out of reach but which she was grasping for, rather amiably.. And then, the same sight to render her guilty seemed to convey a path of salvation. As she looked at her brother, who was responding ruefully and without malice to the hand being ran through the fur. She looked at it then. To its misplaced middle claw, with no bloodstain marking it any more. With a new target, no doubt. However, she would make that target very easily identifiable, without any searching about whatsoever.  
She brought up the hand suddenly. The eevee, disinterested, and lacking his sentience, wandered back off into the brush. The talon hung from the middle knuckle, stiffly, and it found a place touching skin just above her left eye. Before she raked it down along her face. It bit deep, but like always, did not trigger any nerves. Nor did it hinder her vision, even though the eye had essentially been split.  
_{ No, of course there's no pain. }_ thought she. _{ But let me just wait... }_  
Then, the world seemed to slow around her. She had thought the voice would say something, but it didn't comment. Maybe it genuinely wasn't there any more. She had things to care more about right now, though.  
  
The back of her neck tightened, as a circlet of fur formed right around it, carrying a wave of heat along with it. Two more formed on her ankles, catching her a little by surprise, as she lost her footing and fell a little backwards. Now she could see her feet from there, where the fur outgrowing had already captured both feet. It was yellow. Five toes together slid into three, twice. The spreading of it up her legs was a trigger for them to lessen in size, and so they did.. once again hiding her feet from view.  
The rest of the body was obviously doing the same, she could feel fur there, pressing on the dress and the blouse. A pressure around her back caused her to have to roll to her side, slowly.. before the pressure released, taking the skirt back with it. It was a zigzagged tail, with the base likely to be in black.  
_{ Pikachu.. }_ thought she, without emotion. That was actually an irony, she considered, knowing she would never have the power of speech to say anything other then that single word from the end of this onwards.. Her hair was receding, she could feel that much, pikachus did not have hair of course.. And then, things slowed. She waited, because it had not completed, her head was still mostly human, though it was quickly being overtaken by fur. It was slightly uncomfortable, but she took no notice of it.  
Her body jolted, and she was shoved back to sitting again, though it was slightly more forward, and it allowed for the tail to sit and waver behind her. The hair actually remained in part, now at a newly sized mid-back length. It was a pale pink by then, however. A swelling feeling manifested in either cheek.. the slight tingle on her tongue of electricity obviously put there by now developed thunder sacs, denoted by red dots on the surface.. Concurrently, her ears had shifted more to the back of her head, not directly on each side any more, but facing forwards, stiffly. They were not tipped in black, but instead were striped. Well, every animal had its own characteristics, so this was nothing so unusual...  
It was complete. A final shortening, of the upper body, and left was a pikachu, of fairly average build, with only eyes left to go.. She blinked them once because everything seemed to brighten.. and when they were reopened, they were fully black, with no hint of colour at all. But if so, why was everything still slow? And why did this occur, if she was not sentient..?  
_{ I should probably have lost my sense of being by now.. }_ she thought, a little too casually.. but, it can be imagined that one's senses are already battered now that she's standing dwarfed in her clothing as a little electric mouse..  
_~{ Oh, no no no.. You get to keep that, although it won't do you any good. Hope you have popcorn, because you get to watch from here on in... }~_  
And she'd have thought something, except another feeling crept in. Perhaps her brother had felt it earlier. However, it wasn't just going to draw her. It was physically trying to _become_ her, it seemed. The body didn't seem to fit any more. So, it seemed logical that another change should occur then.  
The paws, with their small digits, became a little more defined, growing a little.. the rest of her following suit slowly. But emphasis was on the paw digits, which became very defined, with a split appearing at the tip of each. Ten black-shafted claws formed on the hands, differing from the single one she had before in that they were smaller. The three toes on each foot did as the hands did, producing large claws that resembled talons to an extent. A feeling in her mouth drew her to run her tongue about it.. feeling the slight nips of many needlelike teeth.  
That once yellow fur started to ease towards two new shades, blue and black, appearing as random stripes.. starting on the legs, and moving elsewhere, everywhere, driving the yellow away. This fur progressed not with a burning, but with a cool ache, that seemed to leave an aftertingle as it went along. Something poked through her forehead. It was a black gem, with a recessive hint of blue. From there, things got a little weird. The two ears split down the middle, and lengthened slightly, becoming four, which fanned out at the back into a myriad of points. She winced a little at this, for she had not expected that. Another feeling came to be just above both eyes, where something seemed to snake out just above either one. In actuality, they were two antennae, which hung rather high, like they were held up. These, surprisingly, were yellow, but tipped blue at their ends.  
  
Time resumed itself, and the rodent did the instinctive thing, and removed the clothing from around herself. She was blue and black pretty much everywhere, with ears wavering a little, picking up sounds.. Her eyes were still closed, but she opened them; one single line of colour was apparent in the left eye, marking where the slice she had made had cut the eye. It gave an iridescent blue glow. And all this contrasted with the fact she still had hair, albeit pink, and sitting to the midpoint of her back.  
_~( When you consider that normally it would be a pokemon that kept the Balance..__ making yourself into one means I can do as I like with you. It's an improvement, and you're much more worth to me like this, really.. You're not the first human to try cutting themselves to get away from their duty. I don't think you'll be the last either. )~_ A half laugh from the voice. And that is the last thing the woman heard, before suddenly she wasn't listening to anything any more. The eyes brimmed with instinct, and nothing else mattered now.  
  
~( Now then. I presume you can find your next target quickly. Go. )~  
The blue rodent complied, zig-zagged tail kicking once, with just a hollow black flash as she turned, and moved off very quickly into the brush, in an almost random direction.  
  
So fast did she depart the scene, that the teardrop hit the ground to the tone of complete silence.  
  
  
---  
  
Fin.  



	8. A Story of Morphs

Some more **Tales of a Bored Raichu** for you..  
  
_5:10pm, Saturday 15th December 2001_  
  
My last story (what _would_ have been #8) ran away from me. It was getting too big to continue, because I got to ten sides of paper and still hadn't finished. So, I started afresh. Finished this in little time at all. Let's see how we do.  
  
_**#8 - A Story of Morphs**_  
-- _The weird thing are always the bestest. __ --_ unknown  
  
_~ Residing on some forgotten__ plane of existence lies a certain race of beings. In their past, they were separate, but time, lots of power, and a number of accidental occurrences, has led each race of pokemon and human into an unholy union. And it is of a number of these that this story takes note of._ ~  
  
The day was young for Scott. So young, in fact, that it hadn't officially begun; the pidgey hadn't even woken up yet. He wasn't bound by any sort of Dodrio-like task of waking everyone at sun-up. And the certain person that was had met rather hasty remissal. He now took sleeping pills each night. Much better then being beaten back to sleep by a disgruntled army of tired morphics, eh?  
"Ten o' clock.. I swear, what _are_ you going to do with yourself..." His mom, a rather daunting Pidgeotto with a beak that was sharper then her bite, but not by much.  
"I'm going to make a decent living at some time, is what." he said, still 'asleep'.  
"What, like that? Pidgey fon't carry strength enough to do courier work and you don't carry t'brains to do owt else!"  
"Well, you don't know owt, and look at where you are.." mumbled him, shuffling on his perch a little. Yes, the pidgey slept standing, draped over by some amount of fabric. Not much could be said.. except it gave the mother-bird an opportune chance to whisk down, grab her son by a leg, and toss him off the perch and back against a wall. This might be strange behaviour for mother and son, but Scott wasn't fazed at all by the wall, and this was just-  
"Wakeup call!" she said, with a laugh. "Me, do owt.. I can do owt, you can't even fly in a straight like. And you're what? Seventeen? Ha!" she said, gripping the leg again with her beak, ignoring the flailing around Scott was doing under his blanket, and tossing him clean out of the glassless window, from under the bit of fabric.  
The Pidgey family is built rather considerably, with beaks instead of mouths, wings instead of arms, and taloned feet being at the bottom. Scott was very used to treatment of this sort by the older morph that was his mother, and locked his talons on the sill of the window as he hung out. There were quite a few marks on here, which were rather indicative of the things which happened weekend in, and weekend out..  
This particular grip was very bad, and it disappeared within seconds, causing Scott to start falling. However, he caught himself on the air, with wings that started up, suddenly shooting him into the air, albeit very haphazardly.  
"You correct yourself too much. Stop it, let it go to itself. The air knows itself better then you do." she said, looking out the window, and hopping back a way as he came back into his room.  
"You know what happened the last time I took that advice. I trusted, right until I went splat on the ground." said Scott, a little mournful.  
"Well, I'm guessing you could fix that by an evolution, say. If you want, that is."  
"What happens, happens. I'll sort it myself or I'll not get it sorted at all." said he, turning to leave back through the window again.  
"Suit yourself." said his mum, heading elsewhere, back inside the little tree-banked place they called home. Scott took off dead straight, and headed away to the right.  
  
What was his mum's fixation with that? Scott wondered to himself, as he took his morning flight. But he knew, however sentient the morphs were, their integral pastime would be fighting amongst each other. It was only natural, and he like this could get very hurt in a normal conflict, should one come about.  
Pity though, as he slid around a tree, clipping it with his left wing. He did fly poorly. Birds not built like tanks would take jobs as couriers, delivery people, as a basic standard. Scott couldn't do what he was supposed to be best at, so it had to be wondered what he'd end up doing at all...  
  
From nowhere at all, a bolt of lightning missed the back of his tail. He glanced down, and saw, vaguely, three or four assorted electric morphs, who had very much seen him. Now, for some unguessable reason, Scott didn't feel like being fried so soon after waking, if at any time whatsoever. So, he did what he'd naturally do; he turned one eighty, and headed back the other way. However, it wasn't to be as simple as that, for he had to drop a bit of altitude, as it started to rain, and he lost the ability to see straight ahead.  
Not good. Not good at all. Scott got away from the area as fast as he was able. But, up above, sheet lightning fizzled about a bit, before an obnoxious fork of lightning came from above and struck him cleanly on the back. Scott winced, expecting to not be able to move, to be having to descend... but.. nothing came. Not a thing. He glanced down, and couldn't see anything more. Nor was there any lightning coming at him again from overhead. He headed towards where he thought was back home, the rain dissipating as he got further from where he had just been. He was confused, to say the least.  
  
"You know, Mum, I got a question." said Scott, as he ploughed rather badly through the window which led into the main conversion area of the small wooden sheltering.  
"Sure, fire away." said his mam, who was busy reading something. A paper, most likely.  
"Well, I was always sure birds were very much affected by electricity--"  
Scott found hiself beak to beak with his mom.  
"Were you struck by lightning?" she asked, rather hurriedly.  
"I dodn't go looking to be. But I was, yes. Some electric morphs below, wanting to cause trouble."  
"Gah.. they can't have found us.. Did they see it hit? Did it just.. not have an effect?"  
"Yes to both.. What's going on?" Scott was alarmed at the way his mother was handling this..  
"And you flew straight back here, I'm guessing.." she queried, a little bit nervous now.  
"I did." said Scott. "Now, what is this about?"  
"Uh oh." she said. "Well, I owe you the story now. Take a seat." He sat, she sat, he coughed, she began.  
  
"A little odd, is this. About two decades ago, a certain legendary bird became rather impatient with everything. He was Zapdos, and he was plagued; the fact his element was an opposite to his type set him at unease, and he had to keep order between his brother of flame and his sister, of ice. He decided enough was enough, and went away, determined to live in obscurity from then on." She paused.  
"Five years after that, they caught up with him.And they were very pissed. So, they made him from a bird into something more of his element, and chose to try again by making another Zapdos, for of course, it isn't ideal for them to stay without one of the legendaries for very long. However, they couldn't just go off and do it. For, guess what? He'd gone and had a son, and by rights he if anyone was who they would be forced to choose. You get the story so far?"  
Scott shrugged. "So..." He felt like she was toying with him.. This sounded like the story that the kangaskhan would tell her child just before he went to bed. Was he being patronised?  
"So? You're the son, if you didn't work that out already. The last thing he managed to say to me was that you should be kept safe - and away from those electric morphs, who lack their elemental representation somewhere above. And will be drawn to finding you, do you realise? I do hope you weren't seen.. We should get away from this area.."  
"Oh, how wonderful.." Scott didn't seem to really give a damn. He cottoned on that she was right, but.. he still wasn't aware of how any of this was a problem. He let himself be led outside by his mother, also.  
However. Outside there, they were confronted.. by a group of electric morphs. Pichu, Pikachu, Raichu, and Jolteon.  
"That was some neat trick you pulled back there. I don't know of any.. bird.. that can keep going his merry way after being fried by Thunder.." the raichu said. By the way he was sparking a little now, it was obvious to Scott that it was him who had caused that attack earlier. Not that he really minded..  
"We were wondering just how far it could be taken." replied the pikachu, one of the carefree girlish types, with shite hair, and a rather fluid voice.  
"That's absurd, though.." said the pidgeotto, ruffling herself just once. "You probably missed him. Didn't they miss, you were saying they missed, right Scott?"  
Scott didn't get chance to reply, before the jolteon interrupted. "Thunder is very unlikely to miss a bird flying in the rain, though." The pichu remained silent; the conversation didn't bother her, because her own electricity damaged even herself..  
"C'mon! It'll be interesting!" said the pika'femme, a rather eerie shine in her eyes.  
"Let's go, Scott." said his mam. However, the raichu had already begun charging, just letting out a general thudnershock on the area. The electric morphs were unfazed, the pichu flinched a little, Scott stood there rather nonplussed.. and so did his mom. Who decided that getting away from here would be a good idea, and flew upwards.  
"Wait up a sec!" said Scott, before himself being hit rather hard with a trio of thunderbolts.  
The pikachu then went on to emit some light yellow waves out at the pidgeotto who was trying to get away from the area, but.. it wasn't particularly effective, and she continued on unhindered. The raichu, however, had a zap cannon in planning, this he fired at Scott, who by then was in the air. The shot was good, the elctricity was useless, but the paralysis was unavoidable, and his wings suddenly stopped working; the pidgey morph found himself back on the floor again.  
  
From a safe distance away, the pidgeotto watched, hidden. She had told Scott of the truth, but there was a few things that she hadn't mentioned. It didn't really matter, because the ends would be as if everything she had said was correct..  
  
The pichu knew, though. She knew that the fellen pidgey was not who they were seeking. The others, no, they saw an electric irregularity, and while they kept plugging the paralysed Scott with their element, it didn't seem to be having very much effect.  
"Hold on." she squeaked, looking at the place where the pidgeotto was hidden. "I'm not convinced it's him. It's who you're looking for, anyway. But it's not who I search."  
"I assume you're joking." said the raichu. "Or am I missing something?"  
"Just watch." said the jolteon.  
Scott was unsure what any of this was. But something, somewhere within his head, it knew. And it told him. And it asked him a question; Did he want what they wanted? He found himself saying yes.  
The pidgey coughed a few times, then proceeded to look like he was evolving.But.. not into a pidgeotto, oh no. Wings receded, becoming arms; a feather tail combined upon itself, gaining a proper shape, though rather jagged a one. And it was yellow.  
The pidgeotto, she started to worry, before the grip she had suddenly wasn't there any more, and she fell from the tree, and landed on the ground.  
  
Up to her walked the pichu, happy as could be. She looked upon the fallen female, from her diminutive height. And spoke.  
"Not bad.. You constructed a life from nowhere, that could be commendable.. But, you have to face reality. You haven't a son, you never had a husband, and you're not who you seem to be. Because I know."  
The pidgeotto knew who it was now, and cursed, before she remembered. Or was made to recall, anyway.the area went in up an electrically induced glow.  
  
She was visible as who she was, the Zapdos morph of not too long ago, before she disappeared from view. The sight was seen and not understood by Scott, or what used to be him. It resembled a male pikachu morph more then it did Scott, though. And he didn't know where he was, for one. But he did notice his sister had him in an embrace.  
"You have got _no idea_ how worried I've been!" said she.. "We got help to find you, though.. but.." she looked around.. "..they went?"  
Yes, the pichu and the jolteon had found who they were searching for. The Raikou was followed by the Mew, older yet still only a child, as whatever plane of reality Zapdos had gone onto, they were following.  
  
The area of the forest they were in was now raining feathers, for some reason. Pidgeotto, Zapdos, somewhere in between. The two siblings glanced at each other, then at their older sibling, the raichu.. who didn't really say anything, he was captivated by the plumage raining from above.. But, there quickly became nothing more to stay for. The trio headed off in what might be described as the way home.  
  
The forest stood behind them. Perhaps another episode of morphic drama would come their way some time soon. It could wait for longer then any other, after all.  
  
---  
Fin.  



	9. Charmed

**Tales of a Bored Raichu** - the latest in quite a while, in fact  
  
_Sunday, 10th March 2002_, _15:44pm_ -- (Mother's Day, quite coincidentally )  
  
To be honest, this latest one had been written quite a while ago.. but I just, eheh, didn't type it up. Still, I am doing now - not that there's much to say on the subject, but at least I try. o.O  
Any name coincidence relating to a certain New-Zealander is just that, coincidence. Seriously, I only realised the name I'd chosen well after I'd finished writing it. And I'm much too bad with names to try and change it. o.o  
  
(I consider it a strange irony that such a story should be written by myself and posted on a day like today (or yesterday, considering it's 12:08am when I finish writing this. Oh well, so much for being spot on..)  
_  
based loosely on a story, by Toby [seriously, it really IS a coincidence x_x;;]_  
  
_**#9 - The Child and the Charm**_  
  
It was precisely 7:36am. Toby hated this time of day, as most fairly joung children did. But Toby, no, he'd tell you; eleven isn't very young at all. But it was; indeed, between eleven and fourteen, people think they know everything, it's when at fifteen to eighteen, and they actually _do_, when the troubles start happening. But Toby wasn't sure he'd reach that stage, and his mother didn't really seem to want him to.  
  
No, let it not be said that she was _cruel_ as such, or anything.. except maybe the word isn't really strong enough. Most days she'd just awaken him in that 'special' way he'd come to loathe, or maybe she was feeling oddly, and chronically, sadistic.  
"Time to get up," muttered she, from behind the closed door. He was indeed awake, but not up as such. The door opened to reveal the mother figure, a quite nicely built black haired girl, not likely to even be thirty yet, and most definitely not looking anywhere close. She was holding a belt, clasped at one side, and one look at her told the story of someone whose plot was lost before it had ever begun. Without demuir, she strolled to the bed, a narrow island in the centre of wood panelling up and down, with nothing of interest in the room. And just hit the child several times with the belt.  
No sound, surprisingly. He just turned, looked up, and slid out of bed, the beginnings of tears creeping up in the eyes. The mother chrugged, and left the room. Delayed pain swamped the boy, and he keeled over. Unconsciousness was perhaps a blessing.  
  
So, when all was said and done, and done some more, he had little to look forward to. He'd been thrown out of school for dealing with things the only way he knew how.. Still, after the assaulted came out of intensive care, he could remember his own name, and doctors were fairly hopeful he would learn who his parents were before he turned sixteen.  
After that incident, no one really came close to the family any more. Perhaps it was the best way.  
  
He was out in the garden, and she wasn't in. He was digging about near a rather ill-grown tree in their small little back garden, in which even grass had it hard. He was looking for nothing, a wholly useful pursuit for his time, and he actually failed in doing this when his stone struck something under the dirt, *chink*, wihch he managed to hear, Hands replaced tools, and he scrabbled at the dirt, finally excavating a small, almost oval item. It had ridges along it, all parallel. It was a weird little thing, and he didn't know what it was, nor had he ever seen something like it before. What it was, he noted, was shiny, and so he decided to keep it with him. Things like this sometimes always end up being made useful. As long as he could keep it away from the prying eyes of the powers that be.  
  
He would find out later that day what it did.  
  
It had been rather dismal all day, and the weather hadn't been particularly good either. Mom-figure was very annoyed for no real reason. Actually, it technically was a real reason - a really bad reason - but still, she mused, anything for a laugh. The way she slammed the door spoke volumes. This was her, simply the boss of the place, and very eager to let everyone know this. Or maybe just the kid. Ah, yes, the fruit of her labours, and consecutively more labours when _he_, the man who neither of them would name, had upped and gone. And she'd been left with Toby, a name of _his_ choosing, no doubt. She didn't take to her 'duties' very well, and it broke her rather quickly. Apparantly, if she hit him hard enough, she hoped he'd go away. Never was this the case, though. Such a shame. Maybe she needed to do something _extra-special_ this time, something _articulate_, even _grandiose_ , or maybe a lot of other posh-sounding words she didn't know the meaning of, like _immaculate_ or _hypocrisy_. Possibly even _murderous_ . She walked through the room like she was on ice.  
  
Toby was back in his room when he heard the door slam. (Uh oh), thought he, (Wonder what innovative idea she has today...) He knew words like _articulate_ and _grandiose_, very unlike the mother-figure. He even knew _murderous_ and it wasn't something very pleasing to think about.. at least, for him, it wasn't..  
As much as vocabulary can say, he could think only simply, and simply the facts were; _Mom is pissed_, and following that _I'm going to get it in the neck today_. Just like always...  
"I'm pissed off. Why? Doesn't matter why, you nosy son-of-a-bitch.."  
She'd say that a lot. I's one of the few things that provoked Toby to smile, even if only a little. For he was, after all, the son of his mother.. was he not?  
"Is that funny, or something?" she asked him.  
"Yes, it is." he replied, without thinking. Before then thinking, doing a double take, and then just halting. (What the..) No, he wasn't this abrasive normally; you'd think the dozens of peppered scars on his person would tell that much.. Still, he kept his composure, passing the object he had located between his fingers. Before dropping it, rather suddenly. It hit the floor, and rolled around to his front, setting after a brief moment of circles. He crouched to get at it, but was met with a rather edgy kick to his midsection, which caused him to fall to the floor, to his knees, head forwards as he held an arm over his lower chest. Wasn't so painful, was that..  
"Why, you.." She hadn't brought down her leg yet, but did so then, on the back of his head. She then whipped his head down with it, sending it into the floor, the boards developing a number of cracks in unison, *crunch*. To add insult to injury, she'd managed to bring him down spot on the object he'd dropped, and the growing red puddle gave an indication of a laceration.  
"Woops.." said his mom, before leaving the room.  
  
Toby did awaken, lying in the middle of the floor where he had been left. For some obvious reason, he had a headache. Then again, the fact he'd just been run over by a truck seemed to be the cause of that. The room was way too dark, no light whatsoever. Maybe he'd had his vision damaged in the conflict. Oh, wouldn't that be just so perfect..  
He heard a bell sound somewhere. He knew it fairly well, actually. It was the sound of the bell over the door on the shop across the road, and a way along the next block. He having heard it through two doors, a window, and a good hundred feet of outside distance. (Weird..) he thought, insightfully. (Let's not think that again..)--  
  
She should probably see how he was doing. (Not gonna scrape him off the floor just now.) thought she. (I'll toss him in bed and call it cot death, or something..) Which, said and done, would not be the best idea she had ever come up with.. Or, then again..  
She opened the door. The light from the corridor illuminated the room. She didn't see anything in there worth noting.. apart from the weird little meowth, sat on the floor, who turned to look at her as she looked at it.  
  
"Did the wall behind me open up or something.." asked Toby to the air, as he turned to watch the door, indeed, open, a door that was a good number of feet over his head. Or, he would have asked.. if it didn't sound like yowling. In the light, he saw part of himself for the first time; what should have been hands were now paws. Moving forwards a little, he tried to "stand", and failed. And then realised he _was_ standing. Nothing wrong here...  
  
She'd liked meowths for a long long time. Still, she didn't say much as she saw the one in her son's room just pad about like it owned the place. Which, in all right, it did..  
"Since I can always hear this door open, and I didn't, this means that Toby is still in here somewhere. Yet.." and she feigned looking around, "..he is not.. All that is in here is the scratchcat and myself." Articulating like, somehow, the words she were saying had a meaning different to the one she was implying, like she didn't want to be resigned to the obvious explanation. To Toby, it seemed like defiant disbelief, and he sighed.  
"However, since this meowth is, very definitely, female.. I guess he must have sneaked out.. and left it as.. a gift, or something.." said she, stumbling onto some answer. " To which Toby coughed, producing a fairly sizeable hairball. Yeah, perhaps he.. she? .. was female. Maybe the slightly pinkish fur colour gave it away. And the bow, which she hadn't noticed before..  
"So, that's it then. He's gone, I'm happy. And you.. you need some food."  
The kitty perked up an ear. And thought for a while.. Maybe she'd finally become free of her? Definitely a cut above being beaten about, anyway... (Still, I'm not myself any more.. which is the downside to this..) she mused. But, she was fairly pleased. And started purring, just to be vocal about it.  
  
Toby was then carted downstairs, to the kitchen. Her mother, if she could term the human as such any more, opened a tin of her own food, and put it in a bowl, which found itself on the floor, staring up at Toby staring down at it. And, she ate, while the woman went into the room next door. (Not bad, even though it's cold..), thought she.. her taste was all messed up, though, so she didn't know what to make of it really.  
Quickly she was ushered out onto a makeshift bed, made from a pile of clothes, sheets, and other fabric items. She padded about, rather characteristically, for a short while, before finally settling down, making the odd cat sound, before she remembered she did feel a little woozy still, and drifting off to the first peaceful sleep she had taken for a while...  
  
-  
  
Thoughts aside, Toby jumped as the telephone rang, waking her. She didn't hear the conversation; still a little tired, and wasn't really paying attention anyway. Her sense of balance told her she'd been picked up, and nextly she was on the kitchen floor. Before smelling something, of foodlike odour. Opening an eye, she saw that is what it was. Some actual pokémon food this time, and it wasn't half bad, either. It had gone rather quickly, in fact, and needing something to do, she padded her way back into the other room, finding the spot to brush against her mother's legs. To which she was duly picked up, and stroked.  
"Quite the one, aren't you.. but, alas, I don't have the time to give you the full attention you might want.. Lucky for you it's still the weekend today.."  
  
The doorbell rang, and she put the meowth to the floor, and went off to answer it. Outside was a man, rather stocky, and Toby noted nothing, not even the kitty carrier he was holding.  
"Come for t'delivery." he said.  
"Sure. Slip in for a second." was the reply.  
The second went quietly for Toby, who had fallen asleep again before she knew it - not even stopping to pad the floor before lying down. Without a word, he picked up Toby, and placed him rather gently in the carrier, closed it, nodded to the woman, before leaving. The carrier found the passenger seat of his van, and the driver's seat found him.  
The motif on the side of the van, quite simply, advertised the place the man worked - a place dealing in the manufacture if musical instruments.  
  
Toby slept soundly through the trip.  
  
--  
_epilogue_:  
Tina sat in the chair in her front room, after she'd cleaned the clothing and things away. Relaxation was all she had to do for today, and boy did she relish the thought. That charm had indeed been hers, once upon a time, but as the adult she was, it wasn't any use to her. But then again.. it had proved itself many a use before, and had served its last one just perfectly.  
She spent a while wondering what she could possibly do with her spare time, her masses and masses of spare time...  
  
Perhaps she could learn to play the violin.  
  
--  
Fin.  
  
  



	10. Upon a Night Sky :new:

**Tales of a Bored Raichu** - how one pokemon can be bored for so long, we'll never know  
  
_Friday, March 15th 2002_ - _7:06pm_  
  
It's too quiet. Even though a machine nearby is loud, it is still too quiet. But I get that a lot. I won't write about myself, eheh.  
But, I can only recall nine stories before this one. Meaning this is the tenth - a milestone in itself. So, I'll try and make it something of a change.  
  
_**#10 - Upon a Night Sky**_  
  
She wasn't even sure why she was here, at this time of the twilight hours. A few people had tried to work out why she had slept, day in and day out, to wake at dusk, and for after that time, what she did could only be left to the Legendaries, and other omnipotent pokemon like that.  
As much as the infernal body clock is changeable, humans are not built, and were not built, for the nocturnal life - this is very obvious to most, because they can't see without a source of light.  
Mischa picked several flakes of rye grass from her GI-like green trousers, (well, if they last for the GI, they can last for me as well), and set off walking again, heading for the other side of the hill she was on. This whole area, a section of the widespread moors of Johto, was rather large in itself, and any onlooker would be surprised how far in it she actually was. In all reality, she had a tent, a small one, so sleeping in the day was no problem like that.  
  
Still, the often wondered. "Why?", as she sat in her tent, watching the sunrise. True enough, a mere four months beforehand, she was just the ordinary type, sleeping at night, off to a well paid and slightly boring job as a hotel receptionist, do her work, check out, come home, eat, sleep, crap, all the usual. Not in that order, of course.  
  
~~~~  
Then again, she knew exactly what it was. Some guy had walked into the hotel, mumbling faintly. What he didn't seem to notice is that he was bleeding quite openly from a whole lot of places; each place in itself would be a wound deemed fatal. Mischa, in her inquisitive (and slightly naive) nature, came up to the guy,  
"Need any help?" she asked, rhetorically, expecting a yes.  
"Not really.." So much for being rhetorical.. "I can help you though."  
"I'm not the one bleeding all over the carpet.." she admitted. Mischa was never one for knowing what to do in a situation.  
It was then he had told her;  
"My time is short enough as it is. Just let me tell you something. The sixth Johto plain is a special one, more then could be thought. For it is home to the Shadow Pool, of which I'm thinking you know of. It will find you if you let it, but remember these words if you so wish to do so.. It is not within five miles of any wall of the plain, and it only shows itself at night. Between the first disappearings of evelight and the faintest appearings of morn."  
The only thing Mischa really noted was whether 'evelight' really was a word.. This guy seemed too unconcerned about himself, so she had listened, in the hope he'd actually do something else..  
"It's the place where no one comes back from. Can you think of anybody who didn't come back, Mischa?" Two very obvious things hit home in that sentence, and Mischa gained a rather noxious headache.  
"I'm.. going to ring the ambulance now."  
"If it makes you feel happy, I promise their time will be wasted." he'd said. At which he leaned against the wall, and slid down it, leaving a trail of red on the side. After what seemed like forever, they arrived, and carted the strange man away. She didn't follow - for she had been elsewhere in spirit, just thinking. Her thoughts had been the same thing she mainly considered while sat in the tent.  
  
~~~~  
  
When Mischa had been 17, her father had gone out for a walk, and had never returned. When nothing was found, no one had been surprised; those moors were unfriendly.  
He'd gone on either the fifth of the sixth plain, for those were the two aside their small, rural home.  
Mischa was then sure it had been the sixth. And she also knew what she had to do.  
  
Within a week, she had gone on 'indeterminate leave' from her job, bought up on supplies, and was on her way to the old house where she once had lived. It was to become her base of operations. That day she had gone to sleep at two in the afternoon. Her search was to begin.  
  
~~~  
  
By the time Mischa regained her sense, the sun was dawning. Apparently, she'd dreams her thoughts, rather then plainly think them. She had been doing that a lot lately; maybe it was a sign. After all this time, she was hopeful of such an indication, and when she set off walking that night, it was with fervour unseen for many weeks. "Many" being around equal to every single one. She felt this was a wild goose chase, but... she had kept going.  
  
She was not devoid of thought when starting out, no. The area of land that was five miles from the edges of the moor was actually quite a lot of area. She'd covered a lot of it, but she didn't have that much left to search, so her hope of finding something was waning ever so much. Still, she could almost hear her father in her mind, ( I'll be back soon, hon _, and that much was enough to keep her going - indeed, it had kept her on track for this long.  
  
It was around three in the morning. Her tent was a way back in the other direction; she was not moving camp today. And yet she'd overstepped her bounds, ploughing into the area she was scheduled to check tomorrow. Still, she had many hours left before the dawn, so in a fit of spontaneous thought, she had decided it would be best to continue on.  
  
It was at the top of the next hill that she stopped. A number of faint sparkles by the waning moon ahead were reflecting off of something not too far away.  
She remembered the first time she'd found the lake on her map, near the start of this endeavour. She had only realized it wasn't her target when nothing special had been noted about it. And the sign; an unknown place would not be likely to have a sign by it.  
At this moment, though, it was different, It felt special, sublime, and perhaps even... cosy, and.. before she knew it, she was at the edge of the nearby lake.  
  
This whole little valleyette seemed dark, even under moonlight. Mischa fancied a drink, and didn't want to waste her own meagre supply of water, so removing a clear cup from her backpack, she took up some of the water, holding it to the light to check she hadn't fished out another not meant to be drunk. Of course, curiously, she noted no light was passing through the liquid. The stuff was actually black.  
Black water.. hey, wait a minute.. Wasn't she looking for this..?  
  
"But.. This place is deserted..?" said Mischa, quietly and calmly, to herself.  
( Maybe they're inside the water? ) said a voice in her head, one of her thoughts.  
"I couldn't see them if they were..." mused Mischa, cynically disregarding the thought. Before.. suddenly, having a change of heart, turning out towards the pool, dropping off her bags, and walking straight into it, wading her way out. No question as to 'why'.. only the action itself mattered.  
The water, surprisingly, felt no different to every other lake that she'd suddenly decided to, most strangely, wade into without any thought of what the thing was. It got deeper as she got further out, anyway.. it wasn't quite the deepest lake in the world, since she could still see out, with most of her body above the waist staying dry. And then, it ceased to be dry, as Mischa tripped over something, and fell forwards, the water completely taking her for this duration.  
  
Inside.. it was dark. Silent, and foreboding. It carried a sense of detachment that she could never have understood had she not completely entered it.. wading through on a passing is a lot less clear than actually sitting in it, breathing it in.. somehow. You could forget you were actually drowning in such a pool, flailing your arms, and legs, and not being able to get back up.. but Mischa did neither of these things, pushing off the ground, and wrenching herself back over the water, the force of this shaking water from her hair in a scattering of black droplets, which fell back to their 'collective' soon after. Apparently, she'd shifted the ground enough so that she couldn't actually stand on it.. so, she treaded water for a while, before then heading back towards the shore she'd stepped off.  
"Well.. wasn't this a dumb idea.." she commented to herself, moving some of her wet hair away from her wet face, while her wet body slipped out of the wet water, and started to drop onto dry ground. "I have to walk back to the tent, and get these changed.. Shadow Pool, indeed..."  
And suddenly she was aware of presence. As if she was being watched from everywhere, anywhere, all around her, forever around her. But, to look around.. all she saw was the dark pool, and the slight glimmer of starlight from the sky.  
"Nobody there. Get your bags, start walking, girl. Now." she said to herself, picking up her bags, and doing just that.  
  
~~~  
  
So, off she went. Perhaps she had found it, perhaps she had not.. but in any case, it was of no use to her. No trace of anything. She did, however, believe she was being followed.. just a feeling. Mischa didn't get such feelings often, but she'd look behind her often, and often would there be nothing there but the moor.  
This went on for a while, until finally, the girl reached another slight upwards slope in the floor ahead. And went up it, and.. stared.  
The shadow pool didn't really stare back, it just sort of waved at her. With real waves, mind; just the brief hint of disturbance that.. she'd given it, about ten minutes ago.  
"No. I did not go around in circles. I have not just reached the same place twice." Mischa said, before her eyes hurt a little from all the night looking, and she closed them, and rubbed them, for a while.  
It was upon opening them that she was blinded slightly.. it wasn't dark any more. Well, yes, it was. There was a difference between normal light and this lunar glow, though.. it was fairly surreal, but she could see. Her feet ached, and she needed a drink, and without thought she downed most of the cup she'd been holding since she was here last. It tasted like water, which is what it was.  
"Probably shouldn't have drunk that, but.. it doesn't taste different, anyway." she mentioned, licking the last parts off the bottom of the cup before wandering back into the secluded valleyette, where the pond was. All that the light showed her was that there really wasn't any presence following her. Or anywhere around her, as she looked behind.  
Well, until;  
"Was that nice, child?" It had been the first voice she'd heard other than her own in a very long while, so it startled her. Still, she couldn't actually see where the voice was coming from. Maybe this ** was** the pool itself?  
"I'm not a child." Her voice was simple, yet definite.  
"So, child, what brought you this far?" Obviously, it didn't care for what Mischa thought of herself. No matter.  
"Because I thought my father might be here." she said, surprising even herself with the level of honesty she was having here. Then again, she considered, it might already know. You don't hazard a guess as to what non corporeal voices might not know, you just assume they already do.  
"He might be. What is your name?" it asked. Well, if it didn't know that..  
"Mischa." She fidgeted upon saying that.. it was an okay name, but she didn't have to have told it properly. Or.. maybe she did have to. She wasn't so sure.  
"Hmm... Well, he is here. I'll confide that much with you. I can lead you to him, if you would like - but you shall do what I say to get this far."  
"Go on..."  
"You are to go up to the pool and sit in the water. And just think of whatever you would like to." Mischa was, obviously, hesitant.. but, she hadn't realized just how obedient she was feeling towards this voice.. And so, she wandered towards the blackness once again.  
  
~~  
  
It didn't feel at all strange after a few minutes that she was sat in the middle of some random pool of water. Her head actually was just above surface.. and if it hadn't been, she wouldn't have been here for much longer. Mischa's thoughts hopped around a lot.. thoughts of her rather, of the hotel.. of the strange guy that told her to come here, of this whole godforsaken plan.. Wait, there was one thing she thought of just then, which needed an answer, now.  
"Why is everything lit up suddenly? It's not morning yet."  
"Does it look like sunlight to you? I'll answer that later." Ooh, the voice knew sarcasm. "Look behind you."  
Mischa turned herself in the water. Okay, now there was presence.. it was a large umbreon. Looked about double sized, and had slightly greying fur. Next to that was a normally sized umbreon, perhaps a little larger than she knew them to be. Its fur was all black, without even the golden circles of its others, and it was looking in another direction. Not concentrating.  
"I guess you can now see us. Didn't take long, did it?" said the larger one. Yes, it spoke to her. Mischa could have guessed that, but..  
"Yes, I guess I can. Should you be talking..?" she asked.  
The question was ignored. "I said I'd lead you to your father, but that wasn't completely true. I led him to you, instead, though, so it's quite all right."  
Mischa.. looked around. No, her father was not here.. she could see if he was. "I don't see him."  
"That's because you don't know what you're looking for. Try this little mite here. I never guaranteed you'd know him when I led him to you - or, indeed, that he'd know you. He doesn't, any more, just in case you were wondering." Mischa stared.  
"Oh sure, and I'm a ballet dancing Vaporeon. Is this a joke..?" She was beginning to lose patience.  
"Are you laughing? Try me. Or maybe you should come look at this, I'm sure it'll help."  
The wet female got out of the water, then.. and headed towards where the two pokemon were standing.  
"Right front paw, second digit. Tell me what that is."  
She looked.. The umbreon didn't flinch so much when she grabbed the paw, but.. there was something there. A rather narrow band of colour, rough, but not fur.  
"You'll get to it eventually, but I want this to move quickly. That's coral. A rarity to find on wedding rings, but still. A delight to texture, as well."  
Mischa stared, because.. that was correct, her father did have a coral wedding ring. Index finger, on his right hand. The umbreon looked back at Mischa, and Mischa looked at it.. and, despite the fact one didn't really know the other any more.. there was just something in the eyes.  
Something that meant Mischa wanted to run away, very far, and very fast.  
".... I don't care to know who or.. WHAT you are, or what this is.. but, tell me anyway! Why? Why this, why everything today?"  
"I sent this one to your mother a long time ago. You sent yourself to me. Of course, you didn't notice that the man at the hotel was already dead when you spoke to him. Was unconscious when hitting the wall as he walked in. But you didn't see that. No, you saw what I wanted you to."  
And suddenly, Mischa's thoughts.. reflected precisely what the guy said.. She'd talked to thus guy, but his head had been lolled back throughout. And he'd never said any of it. But you don't think to notice, do you..  
"..." Mischa paused; she was clearly not happy.  
"I will answer your question now. Dark types actually have this ability to see in the dark. Everything has this.. twilight quality to it, though. You might have noticed."  
"And now you're just playing with my mind." Mischa sighed.. her head was spinning. "This is all you, and.. I want to know what you're doing."  
"What I'm doing..? Sanctifying the family of the Pool, of course. You didn't think I was here for the good of my health? But this is useless, all these questions.. I say we just let something else happen now." The greying umbreon now sounded strange, and Mischa's head hurt severely. It took another spin upon the grey's next line:  
  
"Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"  
  
Which is when Mischa's heart likely skipped a beat. Her gaze passed from the large umbreon to her hand, which was still holding the cup, quite coincidentally. Which was actually full of water, since she'd got into the water still with it in hand. And then she froze.  
What looked like her hand was slightly overcast with an overshadow.. and what looked like black hair was beginning to creep out around it. Her ability to keep the glass grabbed ceased when the hand tightened a little, and the cup dropped to the floor, emptying its contents over the soil beneath.  
  
"No." Mischa was defiant. But she couldn't stop the feeling of burning that grabbed her.. it took her from that place, and instantly she knew that - the place is all it was. For just a minute, she thought about how she could avoid this hand which Fate had gave her from the bottom of the deck.  
Against the will of her legs, she turned, and started running. Slowly up the side of the valleyette, but quickly from then on... and the grey umbreon laughed a little, and it was all she could hear. A voice.. mocking HER, her very being. But it was more than she could beat... her adrenaline had spoken; run away!  
There was no thought for her tent, or for herself.. she just had to get back to the house, "home", and very damn fast. But, the weight of everything was bearing on her.. her movements seemed sluggish. There was a fire in her mind and it was busy making the whole of her body move jerkily, just like she really was on strings, like she had been led by a puppet to come to this place. Her hands were tight and her feet hurt more than she could think.. and the temptation to go all fours to run was there, but she would not. That would be conceding, now wouldn't it?  
Bits of the place passed by her.. trees, odd fences, bushes, stones.. all lit up with the glow that she would always remember; a glow that was obvious in that it was scary. She could only imagine what her eyes must look like this point.. and hoped that she didn't run into anyone on the way out of this hellbound place. And as for the rest of her.. she was running eyes closed soon. Her hair felt light, and her body seemed not to want to go precisely as it always had. Even running on the flat of her feet was painful.. but she would not, could not, let herself stop. Stopping was not an option, bit her feet and her head burned, and she could be sure that there was something shifting about on her head and down her back..  
  
Would she concede? That was the question she had to ask.. but she was running, eyes only open part of the time, and she had not reached the pool again. She didn't even know where she was, or if she had set off the right way. The only thing that mattered was running. And on, and on....  
  
Eventually, Mischa blacked out, somewhere in the middle of delirium, which had come on just after she had heard, but more so **felt**, the back of her clothing split. She had never known such fear, of such insurmountable power as that which she had faced. And she also never knew halting from her run. In fact, she might possibly have ran on and on, even while unconsciousness proper.  
  
She had a dreamless sleep that night.  
  
~~~  
  
Morning crept upon the house like a scared fireball. The light roused Mischa.. who awoke immediately with a shriek, even though she had not had a dream. Remnant thoughts... But, wait? It was morning. She was still herself.  
Quickly she glanced at her hands, and they were mucky, but the same hands she had looked at holding the water. They were hers, and they were not furred, nor tight. Taking a quick look about herself revealed that, indeed, her clothing had split around the lower back. But there was no given physical reason why.  
"I probably stood on it, running away, or something.."  
  
Still. Mischa was tired, exhausted, and actually cold to the touch, like she was coated with cold sweat. Which she was.  
"Well, I'm home.. I should remember to go back out there and get my stuff.. during the day, of course." she said, wandering up to her door. Her keys were still present, too.. so she used those, left them in the reverse side of the door, and paced through the house.  
  
Empty rooms, most of them.. the only occupied presence was in one downstairs room, which had used to be the lounge. It had her bed and her plans written on a map. Adjoining was the kitchen, which contained a fridge, and actual running water. The upstairs probably still had a shower running, or the bath, or something she could clean up with. This place wasn't paradise, but to Mischa at this moment, it could have been Eden itself.  
"And so, now I know.. Assuming all of that wasn't just a damn hallucination.." The woman herself believed that, even if it was.. Fate didn't want her looking out there. So she would have to believe what she had seen. Sheesh, what a thing to know..  
She even wondered if her mother had known. But, of course, she had no way to find out. Her mother had always been slightly withdrawn after he'd gone.. and she'd found her in bed one time, condemned to a sleep she'd never wake up from.  
  
Which just left her. It had consumed all, but it had not got her. She was the one that got away, and it felt damn good to be alive right now.  
"One thing it doesn't feel damn good to be.. is cold and soaked in my own sweat. Shower. Now." And upstairs she went.  
  
~~  
  
Mischa woke up in her bed, clothed, and still smelling like her own sweat. Something was wrong.. Hadn't she come up to take a shower or something? And then, of course, she thought.  
"I was tired.. I musta just saw the bed, and thought.. 'Well, I'll just have a little nap first..'. Oh well. Wonder what time it is.."  
It was dark out of the curtainless window. To be expected, of course. How many times had she woken at sundown over the last few weeks?  
"Blah.. I'll have to force myself to stay up, one of these days. I'll take that shower now."  
{ No, you won't. }  
It was like a light had come on in her head. And she knew the voice, too.  
"I got away from you. And you won't see me back out on the moors in a hurry."  
{ That's fine. I wouldn't let you come back anyway. }  
"You wouldn't let ME?"  
Oh, this was great.. Maybe he was just pissed off cause she had got away.  
{ Don't be too smug, you're not the first to refuse your fate. Though you're the only one alive right now. I don't know, it's something about afterwards that makes them.. unhappy. }  
"And now you really are trying to play with my head. Excuse me, I'm going off to take a shower."  
{ Like I said, no you won't. You took some of the pool with you, you know that? That and the fact you had some in the first place? You're mine, now and forever. And I do not appreciate fledglings deserting me before they know what's going on. }  
"Well then.. Do something about it."  
{ Sure thing. Don't blink now, will you? }  
Mischa was blinded suddenly, so she did blink.. and upon reopening her eyes, the outside was, once again, light.. the lunar quality she would forever have etched onto her mind. Her own house looked less than real, too.. like this whole thing was something out of a story...  
{ It's always a story, Mischa.. You were gone as soon as you walked into the pool the very first time. }  
Something felt very wrong now. The burning came back, strongly. She bent double, and fell sideways onto the floor.  
{ Where you gonna run to now? Not here, remember? Don't come here now. You can stay out there. }  
Mischa tossed and turned on the floor.. forcing herself to her feet again, using the bed as an aid.. Her hands were black again, as they had been.. only this time, there really was nowhere else she could be. If she wasn't safe in her own house?  
Pain knocked her one on the chest, and she collapsed again, onto the bed, backwards, legs and arms up in the air. Her fingers were just twisting into one another.. and it felt as painful as it sounded, so she shrieked once more. The voice taunted, again,  
{ Nobody's planning to save you now, you know. Not you, not me. I could have offered you somewhere to be.. but no, you'd rather not be here. So that's fine. }  
Mischa didn't care, she wasn't listening, she was turning along the bed, as a pain down her back forced her onto her front. The hole in her clothing proved to be resourceful, when the tail feathers started to appear. Slightly off pink sheen, but all black.. just like they all were. Like the presences which she had never seen.. they were dark creatures, of times past, just living out a ghost's life in obscurity, in the middle of nowhere.  
It wasn't to be that way for her, no.. She'd still have to live around humans. But as what? A pokemon? That could be handled.  
{ Yeah, it could be. You'll be an outcast even among pokemon once I'm done. }  
.. oops.  
  
Her clothes got a bit looser, but most of the burning going on was just slight downy fur, nothing special. She had to lift her head up as her ears grew into themselves, and her world was silence.. only to reappear at the top of her head, amplified, black and pink.. one oversized, but both functional. Her mind spun, and she spasmed once again, and fell off the bed, and onto the floor.. her shoes by then were busy shredding themselves, as the claws on her feet were a lot larger than they could handle. Pain was her world, and her mind was pain. At least she always felt herself throughout this.. eventually entering catatonia, so she had at least some respite from the change...  
  
~~~  
  
The shower was running. Trickles, drops, of water.. from a highly suspended faucet on a wall. And silence other than that.  
Mischa was stood under it. But not the Mischa that she was. A similarly built sneasel-human stood, instead.. A full length mirror adorned the back of the room. She'd be a good catch for some trainer, if that was even a possibility for her. No, she'd consigned herself to just.. existing. A shadow of everyone, of anyone. Little more.  
The good thing about the shower running, is that it masked her tears. Though there was nobody to mask them from, really.  
  
Her left hand, or paw, or whatever she would call it, gripped a razor blade that she had put there, carefully, earlier. The bathplug was in, and the shower water was filling the tub. It would be so easy now.. with nothing., no proof who she was..  
~ I can't even fucking SPEAK! ~ she screeched, in the language of pokemon, at her reflection. And that was it, as she took out a divot of her wrist with the blade.  
  
And then she glanced as nothing happened; there was no wound, no sign she'd even tried.  
{ You're special, though. The reason you're left out is because you'll never come willingly. But I'll break you, eventually. And then you're mine - properly mine. But, until then, you're not getting out the easy way. No, you're going to find a spare room window, hop out of it, and fall through the ceiling of the storage building. You're then going to cut yourself some coverall clothing made of tarpaulin, and go for a long, long run. It'll make you fell a lot better. I've even made it rain for you. }  
  
Mischa wailed. Because of the unfairness. Because of the torment. And because - as she, they, already knew - she would not last forever. In a fleeting attempt to gain some respite, the sneasel-girl hopped out of the tub, and did, indeed, run straight through the window, cutting herself quite badly in the process.. falling through a roof after that, breaking her neck with a loud crack, and scarring one ear and the side of her back.  
  
The neck wasn't broken when she landed on the pile of boxes stacked up, however. She was still very much alive. And, therefore, she knew she'd get up, and start clawing at the first thing she could see - a large tarpaulin, black, designed for keeping the whole of this outhouse covered, should it rain. Just like the voice had said. Just uncanny enough to keep her doubting.. and feeling real enough to keep her confused. Just... cruel.  
  
~  
  
The cloaked figure that ran away from the house, down the road, claws clicking incessantly.. was getting away from the area completely. She was in tears when she set out. Mostly because it felt so unreal.. so much like it wasn't happening. The cruellest reality is that, in the end.. it was. She would be stuck somewhere in the middle.. and nobody really would care.  
  
Except **him**. And he probably didn't _really_ care, either.  
{ See you later then, Mischa. I'll be waiting. }  
The rain hid her tears this time; the sound of pitter patter on the cold unforgiving road, it masked her cries.  
  
~~  
  
Fin.  



End file.
